


Dreams of Freedom

by Katherine Gilbert (LFN_Archivist)



Category: La Femme Nikita
Genre: Epistolary, Gen, Season/Series 01 Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-24
Updated: 2020-04-24
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:48:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,239
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23827867
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LFN_Archivist/pseuds/Katherine%20Gilbert
Summary: This story was originally posted to the LFN Storyboard Archives by Katherine Gilbert.
Collections: La Femme Nikita Storyboard Archives





	Dreams of Freedom

**Author's Note:**

> The following is a look at the episode "Obsessed" from the point of view of Lisa Fanning's journal entries; this should be a warning that the narrator here is *extremely* naive. The story, not surprisingly, has *heavy* "Obsessed" spoilers and might make more sense if you're familiar with the episode. Also, since I'm totally unsure of the dates of the events here, I've just noted in brackets when certain entries were made; okay, that wasn't a good explanation, but you'll catch on as the story progresses. :) I guess I'd rate it MA-14 for some descriptions of sex and violence, although they're not particularly explicit. I should mention, as well, that this was written before "Double Date," so it's not entirely canonical.

Dear Journal, 

I know it's been a while since I last talked to you. I have to be careful, though, that David doesn't find out about you. I don't have any secrets, really, but you know he still wouldn't like my confiding in you. 

The last week and a half have been so busy, too! I have a personal trainer now--Nikita. She's amazing. I mean, she pushes me like I know I need to be, but she's really funny, too. Oh, and she's so *strong*! Just to show me what I might be able to achieve one day, she pressed 120 pounds! She can't weigh that much! Unlike me, of course. I'm a whale. If only I could be in her sort of shape. Maybe that would make David happy? 

Still, I know that's not going to happen. I mean, I'm not strong like her-- inside or out. She always seems to know what she's doing--understands what's happening around her. I never do. 

Anyway, we've been working together every day now for over a week--except for one day last week, when she said she had to go to her cousin's wedding. She didn't seem too happy about it, though. 

David left the day before Nikita came. I've been free well, he hasn't been around, anyway. He'll be back in three days, though, so I really need to get busy training. He'll want to see results. I just hope I can give them to him. 

Oh, I hear Nikita. I've got to go! 

**[Three Days Later]**

Dear Journal, 

David returned today. He wasn't very happy with the results of my training. He didn't see any. I think he may have been angry, too, because I was a little embarrassed to kiss him in front of Nikita. I know he's never had a problem with touching me in front of other people, but--I don't know--I've never felt quite comfortable about that, somehow. 

I can see his point, though. He was away for two weeks, earning money to support me. I guess I didn't give him a very gracious welcome. 

Sorry, my mind is wandering. There is a lot more to tell you! Nikita took me out of the house today; I've never been outside, except with David, since he married me. It was a odd feeling. Kind of freeing. 

Nikita tried to talk to me, too, about leaving David. (Oh God! I hope he doesn't find you! What would he say if he saw that?) I can't, though. He would follow me anywhere. Maybe if I were strong and independent like Nikita, but I'm not. I can't be like her. 

Maybe David picks up on Nikita's feelings about him? He doesn't seem to like her. God, I just hope he doesn't send her away! She's the only friend I have (besides you, of course). 

I must be really distracted. I keep thinking I hear noises, and you know I can't let David find you. 

I almost forgot the most exciting part of my day! When we were out running, Nikita introduced me to a friend of hers--Michael. He's gorgeous! He has these eyes that seem to watch you completely. But they're very soft--not like David's; his kind of bore into you. 

Anyway, Michael and I talked for hours! Nikita left us alone, and I went back to the house on my own. I'm glad David didn't see that! 

Michael listens so well. I mean, sometimes, when I talk to David, I think he isn't listening. But Michael--he was caught up in every word! It was wonderful. I agreed to meet with him tomorrow, if Nikita will go running with me again. I think she will. She's a good friend, and, after all, she introduced me to Michael, so she must like him! 

Oh God, I just heard David come in. I'll talk again tomorrow. 

**[The Next Day]**

Dear Journal, 

You will not *believe* the things I have to tell you! This has been the most amazing day. First, Nikita agreed to take me for a run, but she also allowed me to wait for Michael alone. He was late, and I thought he wouldn't come. I couldn't blame him. I really don't understand what he would see in me, anyway. 

But, then I was attacked! These two men came up and started harrassing me and pulling at me. All I could think of was how I could explain it to David, if I got hurt in the park. He would never forgive me for being there alone! 

Then, the most amazing thing happened. Michael came, and he ran off both the attackers so easily. He wanted to protect me, but he wasn't keeping me confined to do it. It was a really odd, but wonderful, feeling. 

We talked for a long time after that. He said he would teach me to fly a plane. I mean, I knew he was joking, but what a great idea--to be able to soar above everyone--to get away. I wish. 

I need to be serious, though. No daydreaming. I tried to tell him goodbye today, Journal. I really did. I meant it to be the last time. David could find out. 

Michael wouldn't let me, though. I mean, he didn't hurt me or force me to stay, but, well, he just asked. And he kissed me! He was so gentle. He didn't demand anything. I didn't realize there were men like that. 

I'm seeing him again tomorrow. Nikita is going to cover for me. She's such a good friend. I don't know what I'd do without her. And who knows what may happen! 

That's all for now. I'll be sure to tell you all about it tomorrow, though! 

**[The Next Day]**

Oh my God. Journal, I do not know where to begin. This was the best day of my life. Well, except that David is getting suspicious. He sent Frank Thorn to watch me, and (God, I hope this is not my fault!) Frank Thorn was killed! It's been a very emotional day. 

Let me tell you about the good part of it, though. I met with Michael again today. He took me to his house. It's very beautiful, lots of glass and the lake nearby. Okay. I'm beating around the bush, because I don't know how to get my hand to write this. Michael and I made love. The whole afternoon. It was like nothing before. 

David and I have been married for 3 years, you know, since I was 17, but, I know I should be embarrassed, but nothing with him was ever like this! 

Michael was so tender and attentive. He kept watching me the whole time to see what I was feeling. And he never hurt me once! Sometimes, with David, I think he actually likes hurting me. I don't want to think about that, though. 

Michael was so good and so sweet. I know I'm in love with him. We tried things I never had before. Nothing perverse but (how can I write this? I know I'm blushing. God help me if David sees me like this), well, when it's David, he's always on top. But Michael--it wasn't really like he *had* to be in charge. I let him lead me, I know (I mean, I'm way too inexperienced. I didn't want to bore him), but it was like we were both involved in it instead of it just being for him. It was wonderful. 

Oh, and I touched him, too! I wasn't even embarrassed (okay, not *too* embarrassed). He let me do what I wanted and didn't demand I do anything I didn't feel like. I want the rest of my life to be like this. 

The bad part now, though (other than Frank Thorn's death), is that I know David suspects. How on earth am I going to keep him from finding out? It doesn't matter, I guess. Michael will look after things. 

Night's falling, and David is watchful. I should go. I'll write more when I get the chance. 

*********** 

**[The Next Day]**

Journal, 

I don't know what to tell you today. My head's in a whirl. So much has happened. And I have so much to do! 

First of all, I met with Michael again today. I told him about David's suspicions. He didn't seem concerned, at first. We made love again, and it was still wonderful, but then the bomb dropped. 

Michael told me he didn't want to see me anymore. That he was afraid we'd be caught. I was so scared. I can't live without him. 

He admitted, though, that he just didn't want to be apart from me. He wants us to run away together! I was scared, no *terrified*, at first. Michael doesn't know David--doesn't know what he's capable of. He said he knew a way we could do it, though. He knows computers, and he's going to walk me through getting the money from David--from his computer. If I can just do it, we'll be together tomorrow! No more hiding, except from David, of course. 

Michael and I spent most of the afternoon discussing what I have to do tonight. I'm so frightened I can barely breathe. He gave me all kinds of strange devices, including a communicator of some sort. It's really small-- just a dot you wear behind your ear. You can hear perfectly with it, though. 

I never knew they sold these kinds of things, but, then, I don't get out much. 

Anyway, he explained to me very carefully everything I have to do. I'm really terrified. What if I mess up? What if David catches me? He'll oh, God, I don't know *what* he'll do. 

I need to go to bed now. If I don't, David will be suspicious. Wish me luck, Journal. I'm going to need it! 

**[7 a.m., The Next Morning]**

I'm not in very good shape this morning, Journal. David ... David caught me. 

He didn't find out what I was doing, though--he didn't find out about Michael, but I don't really want to talk about it right now. 

I got the information. Michael received it. He stood right by me, too, when David caught me. He told me I could be strong, and I was! David didn't crack me. It was the first time in my life I've felt like that. 

I have a few bruises now, but they'll heal. They're certainly no worse than injuries I've had before. I know Michael won't mind. He's not that shallow. 

And he's coming later today! I don't know when or how, but I know he will. I'll have to tell Nikita about it. She'll help me get to him, I know. 

God, just a few more hours, and I'll have a new life with Michael! 

**[7 p.m., That Evening]**

Journal, 

I know I've been staring at you for a half hour now. Every time I want to start writing, I begin crying again. This has been the worst day of my life. 

It was all a trick. All of it! Nikita--getting the information-- Michael. 

He never loved me. He never even cared. I was just some pawn they used to get David. 

I don't even know who "they" are! They never told me. All they said was that David was bad and had hurt a lot of people, and they had to use me in order to bring him down. 

Later, after they left, I went into David's office. There wasn't much left there. They had cleared most of it out. But I did find clippings about all these murders. I think David did them. 

I'm so confused. I've been crying all day. This morning, I was going to live with a man who loved me. Now, he never existed. He wasn't real to begin with. And I've been married to a killer for the past three years! 

That's what all those jobs and trips were. God, I feel so used. 

I think the worst moment wasn't when I found out about David, though. It was when I found out about Michael. 

You should have seen him when he walked in. His face was flat. His eyes were dead. He, I don't know, maybe there was some sympathy there, but he seemed to stare right through me. 

The Michael I knew was all an act. This one this one said he wasn't free. 

I don't know what he meant. And (God, I feel so stupid), he seemed to have some deeper connection with Nikita. I think they were lovers. Maybe they're even married. She denied it, but, I don't know, there's something more there. 

Maybe, in a way, that's the worst part. Michael, I don't know. I've had men lie to me my whole life; I just hoped Michael was different. Nikita, though, she was my friend. She listened. She seemed to care. Now I know that that was all a trick too. 

I told her to go, once Michael left. She wouldn't, though; she stayed until some people came by and took away the bodies of all of David's guards. They took a lot of paper with them, too. And fixed windows and doors they had damaged. When they left, you couldn't tell anything had happened. 

I know, though. For the first half hour, it seemed like everywhere I turned I saw another dead body. It was horrible. I'd never seen any dead person until today. Now, I've lost count. None of David's guards lived. 

Nikita sat with me for, God, for several hours, until everyone else had left. She tried to explain. She apologized (which Michael never did), but it's not worth much, when it was all a lie. 

I've been alone in the house for two hours now. I mean, *completely* alone. 

I've never been alone before. Never. Father had guards just like David did. I don't know what I'm doing. 

I'm scared. This house is so *big*. There's no one around. There's no one I know to call or talk to. I feel like I've been abandoned at sea--like I'm sailing off in a rowboat with no oars, and there's no one else around for miles. What do I do now? 

**[The Next Day]**

I found an envelope in the front hall today. Inside were a recording and a check. The check is for one million dollars. The recording is from Michael. He said the check is my pay for helping to stop David, for keeping him from hurting more innocent people. He still didn't apologize, though. 

Oh God, I'm sorry. I've started crying again. 

Why didn't he let me kill myself yesterday? I was going to. I had the gun to my head, and he stopped me. Why? What have I got left? 

This house seems to echo. I keep thinking I hear David's footsteps, his voice. I keep jumping, convinced he's right behind me. I can't believe he's really gone. 

Michael said I was free--that I could learn to do all the things I wanted. I don't know. I don't know where to begin. Do you think there's any hope, Journal? I'm not sure, anymore. 

************ 

**[Six Months Later]**

God, Journal, I just came across you again. I haven't thought about you in months. 

I don't know why I feel compelled to update you now. Maybe I just want some closure. 

Well, as I guess you know (since you got moved, as well), I sold David's house. A couple of days after I last wrote in you, I left the house on my own for the first time. I had to call a taxi. I couldn't even drive, then! 

Anyway, I went around town, looking for an estate lawyer. I had found another envelope in the front hall a few days later, enclosing David's death certificate. It was scary, but it did mean I was really free. 

I didn't like the first two lawyers; the first one treated me like an imbecile, and the second reminded me too much of David; he bullied me. I found a woman instead, who actually *listened* when I talked and gave me the name of a real estate agent to sell the house. 

I never went back to it. I got others to pack a few things up for me and never looked back. 

Since then--God there's been so much--I moved into the house which had supposedly been Michael's. It was a stupid thing to do, really, but it was the only place I'd ever felt happy. 

I've started painting again, too. I'm still in the process of learning to fly, but I bought a small plane to learn on. I started reading books on abuse, and I understand a lot more of what's happened to me. I've made friends, too-- *real* ones! And I can come and go with them as I like. 

Oh, and then there's Jean. He's French. I met him at a gallery opening four months ago. He listens, too, but not like Michael did; I don't see him evaluating me for the right moment to attack. 

We were together 2 1/2 months before we made love. And we actually did *make love*, not whatever you want to call those two days with Michael. Our souls are involved, not just our bodies. It's not just a tender seduction. 

Looking back on those few days with Michael, now, I wonder how I could have been so stupid (alright, I understand, but . . .). I mean, he faked things well, but he was never really involved; he just told me what I wanted to hear. 

And how could I have possibly fallen for doing what he got me to do?--Just go steal your husband's money, and we'll be together forever. Yeah, right. 

I don't blame him as much now, though. In the long run, things turned out for the best. I really am free. I'm not letting my fears and conditioning control me. I've taken charge of my life, but I'm still able to trust, when someone deserves it. 

I've forgiven Nikita, too. The more I look back on it, the more I see how little she obviously wanted to be involved in it. Michael was right; she isn't free. 

I still don't know who they worked for. I don't know much at all about it, really, but it doesn't matter. I'm free. 

Oh, how could I forget? I'm getting my first exhibit next month, with the help of a new friend of mine. My art's really getting a reputation, and I'm actually getting less shocked when someone says they like it! 

I just moved into a new apartment, too, away from all those old memories. I love it. It's heaven. 

I'm sorry to tell you this, Journal, but I guess I don't need you much anymore. I have friends who can speak now. I really appreciate all you did for me, though. I never would have survived without you. 

Well, I'm going to work on a new painting, and Jean may come by later. Or he may not. Either way, I'm happy. 

Thanks for the support through the bad years. I'm just glad they're over. 

May they never come again. 

Your old friend, Lisa Sparrow 

P.S. Oh yeah, I changed my last name. Why should I keep David's or my father's?


End file.
